


Ten Years to Wait

by thisonetraveler



Category: The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: Family, Family Dynamics, Gen, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6861259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisonetraveler/pseuds/thisonetraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Addresses, from Aaron's point of view, what happens in Egypt during and after the ten* years that Moses is in Midian.  An exploration of rage, strength and powerlessness, and the complexity of family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years to Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the title: I think I got “ten years” from the _Movie Scrapbook_ or the official art book... but I'm wondering if 15-20 years feels more natural.

His sister had been so hopeful when Moses appeared in Goshen.  Then, disappointed.  Then still, bereft, when Moses’ flight from Egypt bore with it a heavy note of finality.

Incredibly, his leaving did nothing to diminish Miriam’s faith in him.  But _about_ Moses, Aaron knew she was worried.  Distraught.

He watched her heart break that day.

 

Aaron was alert to every slight, every attempt to harm Miriam.  He felt a gathering rage at the person who made his indestructible sister fall.  At his _brother_ , for causing her grief.

And where had Moses gone?  Where had the stream carried him this time?  Their mother’s lullaby and Aaron’s memory of her, reawakened that night by the well, once again drifted beyond his reach.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed the tips of fingers to his temples.

He thought, _another unanswered prayer_.

As the physical work redoubled, Aaron’s tenuous relationship with God labored, too.

  
The years passed and Aaron stewed.

—

His hammer nearly missed its mark when he heard.

That, clothed in strange robes, barefooted, and accompanied by a wife, Moses had returned; unrecognizable for the third time.

When he finally saw for himself, it was to see Moses get knocked down by a clod of mud.  Aaron felt something fracture then, too deep within the stone wall he fought to keep fortified.  Every muscle tensed as he approached the edge of the pit.  His voice, subdued for countless years, rising to match his pain and anger.

"So, Moses, how does it _feel_ when _you_ get struck to the ground?"

Another crack, and the stone shattered.

Had Moses ever cared?

But, his brother didn’t _mean_ to cause them more pain.  Neither had he _wished_ to see.  His was a divine mission.  The excuses rankled, bitter nettles of sweat upon open whip-gashes.  Yet Aaron, having said his piece, turned away at that moment, leaving Moses on the ground.

Leaving him the way Moses had abandoned her that evening, years ago.

  
His breath caught when he saw Miriam standing behind him, disapproval in her narrowed eyes.

"You shame yourself." 

Aaron dropped his head; suddenly he was a child again, tagging after his older sister.  Deflated, Aaron balled his fist against the feelings of helplessness and frustration.  He had been trying to make things right.  Perhaps, he thought, he was not meant to strike back at the injustices of the world, but only to watch everything break beneath them.

The sound of his sister’s voice made him look up, turn towards her.  Despite Miriam’s disappointment in him just moments ago, Aaron felt the sting of shame cool.

Her words, poised and gracious in all the ways he believed his could never be, resettled the cornerstones of his world.

  
But their  _brother_.

Indifferent.  Threatening.   _Gone_.

Now, asking Aaron for his faith and his time.

Aaron understood the fragility of both, and until Moses earned them from him, he could wait a little longer.


End file.
